


One Day You’ll Find Home

by alphatoothless



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Confession, Human!Maxwell, M/M, Werewolf!Wilson, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 14:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphatoothless/pseuds/alphatoothless
Summary: What he didn’t expect, however, was the sound of someone approaching before he could hear Wilson sit beside him. He didn’t dare move as Wilson’s hand gently relaxed against his back.“I do believe I am as peculiar a man as you.” Wilson whispered between them. “Perhaps it’s unusual, but I’d much rather be unusual with you than without, if you’d agree.”





	One Day You’ll Find Home

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!

It was one of the few moments he genuinely felt fear toward the other man. The other’s usual small, softer body was now twisted into something of a horrific beast, his ribs and spine broken and cracked to make room for something that resembled a creature from the underworlds. The other looked far more terrifying than anything even the shadows could create in his lowest moments of insanity, his presence even worse because Maxwell knew him as the sweet, gentlemanly scientist otherwise. 

But this - this was far from his gentle companion. 

He could hear the goosebump-inducing howl in the night, his attention quickly turning up to the full moon that glared down at him menacingly. He could feel the small, furry hands of their adopted son clench the knee fabric of his slacks nervously.

“M-Mommy?” Webber whispered up at him, his fangs always causing the hint of a lisp. 

“It’s going to be alright, pal.” Maxwell held the flickering torch higher in the air, watching it illuminate the empty clearing around them. “Remember what I told you to do if you see Father?” 

“W-We must run?” Webber hugged his leg tightly, with some of the spidery legs of his head digging into his pant leg as well. “Mommy, we are scared.” 

“I know.” Maxwell swallowed hard. Just under his breath, “I am, too.” 

He could hear the slow, heavy breathing in the distance then, right before the sound of heavy footsteps made his breath hitch softly. He rested a hand against Webber’s shoulders, gently pushing the smaller one behind him as he watched eyes glow in the distance among the shadowed trees - quickly meeting his own in a silent challenge. 

“Webber, you must run now.” Maxwell states quietly, just above a whisper, but even he can hear the shakiness in his own voice. He slowly lowered the crackling torch to the small boy, feeling Webber squeeze onto him harder with one hand as the other hesitantly reached up to accept the torch. “Go back to camp.” 

“M-Mommy?” 

He hears footsteps slowly creep closer, the pattern of an unpracticed but determined hunter, as he gently pushes Webber away, keeping his eyes on the beast that lurked in the shadows. 

“Webber, I will only say this once more - go back to camp. Run as fast as you can and don’t you dare look back.” A thought came to mind. “Keep your friends close.”

He heard Webber sniffle before he felt the smallest bit of relief when he heard tinier footsteps run the opposite direction behind him. Now it was just him and the beast, but Maxwell hadn’t missed the fact that the beast’s eyes were locked on his the entire time.

“Wilson.” 

The beast trudged forward then, slowly and barely recognizable as his companion, as sharp teeth were suddenly bared at him in a nasty warning snarl. Maxwell knew he just needed to distract him long enough to let Webber get back to camp. He grit his teeth as he slowly took a step to the side, watching those eyes narrow in the bright moonlight. His Codex poked into his back from his backpack, reminding him of its presence - something he was wishing he’d taken out to hold earlier. 

Maxwell watched saliva drip from the beast’s mouth, his teeth, now sharp fangs, glistening in the soft moonlight as he gripped his backpack shoulder straps tightly. He tried not to think about how Wilson was usually so sweet - how those the soft caresses and kind smiles now turned wicked through bloodthirsty features. 

Maxwell had never witnessed Wilson’s hunting habits during his transformation, nor had he ever personally experienced a full moon with the other, but he could only guess it was purely carnivorous if he’d remembered anything of the Pig Men’s transformations that he’d regrettably witnessed. Far worse, he knew those same Pig men often ate the travelers that stumbled through their village, their cannibalistic behaviors soon forgotten when the sun rose. His heart raced in his chest as he watched large paws slowly pad closer. 

He wondered, briefly, if Wilson would remember eating him - if it came to that. 

Maxwell, with newfound determination, knew he wouldn’t be a victim. Not now, not after everything they’d finally accomplished. Wilson was finally warming up to him - he would not give that up so easily to the scientist’s darker side. Instead, he stood his ground and glared at the other’s beastly form. The beast just stared back at him, each breath visible in the cold night as he stepped closer and closer to Maxwell. 

“Wilson, stop.” Maxwell stood his ground as the other grew closer. “H-Higgsbury, you need to control yourself. You’re a scientist and a survivor, you should be able to handle something as simple as this.”

Wilson’s wolfish form only stalked closer. Maxwell felt himself take a single step back before he could stop himself. Wilson narrowed his eyes as he stood right before Maxwell, his stature towering over the other in an unusual reverse of roles. He reminded Maxwell of the hounds he’d created out of bitter spite all that time ago, his eyes glowing in the darkness as he stared down at him. 

“Don’t make me do this, pal.” Maxwell recited the codex’s words in his mind. He could feel the shadow sword just out of grasp in the darkness, waiting for his command to form. 

He could just injure the scientist enough to keep him back for the night and heal him in the coming days. Wilson would understand - but his life was on the line. He watched Wilson growl then, seeking to sense the weapon in the darkness, forcing him to utter the last line of the page before the shadow sword formed. He watched Wilson rush forward, his bite just barely missing Maxwell as the other dodged out of the way. He sprinted into a run, quickly darting out of the way of Wilson’s fanged attack. 

He didn’t miss the sounds of paws slamming into the ground after him, nor the feeling of breathing on his ankles with how close Wilson remained behind him. He cursed himself, foolishly believing Wilson would have some sort of consciousness in this form. He was sure Webber had probably made it back to camp by now, a relief in its own right, leaving him to deal with Wilson by himself. He heard the snapping of teeth behind him as he forced himself to run faster. Each breath grew harder to draw as he gripped the shadow sword tighter in his hand. 

He could go for the leg, that would provide a scar far less visible and Wilson could continue his experiments despite his healing injury. Maxwell whipped around then, his eyes wide when Wilson was nowhere to be found. He grit his teeth as he swiveled around, his eyes narrowed as he strained his ears. The breathing, the fangs, all of it - gone. And the sun wasn’t due to rise for another half hour or so, which left Maxwell tense. Unless - 

Maxwell gasped and ran. He’d never run so fast before in his life, but he ran. He ran despite his lungs hurting, despite his legs aching and despite his mind reeling. His feet pounded into the ground as he forced himself to go faster, faster - before he heard the growling and sounds of hissing. 

Maxwell stumbled into the clearing of their camp watching Webber run desperately around, avoiding Wilson’s chase as Webber’s few befriended spiders lunged at Wilson’s legs. He’d been tricked, even in the other’s most feral form, leaving him stunned for only a moment before Maxwell ran forward, immediately scooping up Webber into his arms as Wilson turned to growl and snap at the spiders around him. Webber gripped onto him tightly, desperately, as Maxwell ran the other way. He could hear the sounds of angry hissing behind him as he quickly shoved Webber up a tree.

“Climb, Webber! Up! Come on!” Maxwell watched Webber whimper as he climbed a few branches, just out of reach of Maxwell and, hopefully, Wilson. 

“We’re scared!” Webber cried, gripping onto the tree trunk with clawed fingers. 

“It’s going to be okay, Webber. Stay there until I tell you it’s safe to come down.” 

“B-But Mommy-“

“Webber, please.” Maxwell turned to see Wilson kill another spider, but it was clear he was significantly wounded from the attacks. Only one spider remained, sinking its fangs into Wilson’s front legs easily. Wilson howled in pain before turning to rip apart the last of Webber’s spider friends. 

Maxwell gripped the shadow sword as Wilson sniffed the air then, his head snapping to look at him with narrowed eyes. Maxwell walked forward, knowing it wouldn’t be long before the sun would rise. Wilson’s eyes remained locked on his the closer he came, before he bolted forward. Maxwell was quick to turn the shadow sword sideways, bracing it against Wilson’s fangs when the other lunged at him. He tried to ignore the pounding in his chest, mixing with his internal panic as Wilson jerked his head to break their contact. The shadow sword dissipated before quickly reforming as Maxwell jumped back. 

“Wilson, wake up!” Maxwell growled, watching the beast snarl in growing anger. 

Wilson’s eyes remained feral, lost; his fangs bared as he sprinted toward Maxwell once again. Maxwell swung the shadow sword, slicing into Wilson’s front leg easily. Wilson howled in agony, making Maxwell’s heart clench - so much for the ‘back legs’ plan. 

Maxwell had expected the other to finally limp away, with his injuries far more devastating than Maxwell had planned, but the beast seemed determined - much like Wilson’s own motivation. Wilson’s blood was splattered all over the area, his wounds actively soaking the ground below them as he made to charge Maxwell again, although with a stumble instead of the beastly strength he’d witnessed earlier. Maxwell swallowed thickly and ran, not wanting to inflict any more damage on the beast than he had to. It was only a short while longer, as Maxwell could already see sunlight slowly move to lighten the sky above them. 

Wilson turned then, his hound-like nose in the air before he jerked around to see Webber in the tree. He snarled, charging for the tree before slamming into it, watching Webber hiss in fear as he gripped the tree harder. 

“M-Mommy! Help us!” Webber cried out, digging the small claws of his hands and feet into the bark as he clenched his eyes shut. Wilson rammed the tree again, and the sound of bark snapping made Maxwell’s heart sink. 

“Wilson!” Maxwell shouted, watching Wilson back up to charge once more. “Higgsbury, stop it!” 

The tree could handle one or two more charges before it would shatter, affectively injuring Wilson and Weber both when it fell. Maxwell ran forward, hitting Wilson’s back leg with the blunt end of the sword before Wilson snarled and turned around. Maxwell’s breath hitched when fangs suddenly sank into his arm. He forced his arm down and kneed Wilson in the lower jaw before the other yelped and released his arm. He watched the other move to follow him before Wilson howled. Maxwell watched the other growl and claw at his own head then, allowing Maxwell a moment to sigh in relief as the other threw himself to the ground. 

The transformation back to his human form was beginning. 

Maxwell quickly held his hands up for Webber, watching the young one quickly climb down and jump into his arms. Webber gripped onto his clothes tightly, whimpering as he pressed himself against Maxwell’s body as much as he could. Maxwell watched Wilson’s body transform in much the same way as he’d originally transformed, with the sounds of crying and fracturing of bones as the other slowly returned to his usual small, lithe body. 

And then his companion lay limp in the forest, his body unmoving save for the small movement of his chest with every shaky breath. Maxwell stood for a moment in silence, his eyes roaming over the various wounds all over Wilson’s body. He frowned, seeing the bite marks and the markings from his sword on Wilson’s legs and arms. 

“F-Father?” Webber tried softly then, holding a single hand outward toward Wilson’s body. 

Maxwell gently placed Webber down before removing his blazer. He gently placed it around Wilson’s body before lifting the other into his arms. Wilson didn’t stir, his body completely limp in Maxwell’s arms as he carried them back closer to camp. 

“Is Father okay?” Webber reached up to gently hold Wilson’s hanging hand. 

“He will be okay. He just needs to rest.” 

“He doesn’t...hate us, does he?” Webber frowned at the sight of dead spiders littered around the camp. Fallen friends - a sight Maxwell hated for Webber to see. 

“No, oh no, Webber. Far from it. He just...” Maxwell frowned. “His doggy form is a ‘meanie’.” 

“We don’t like Father’s doggy form.” Webber tugged gently on Wilson’s hand. “We like Father the way he is.” 

“I do, too.” Maxwell felt his heart lurch at the confession, knowing Webber would miss its implication. He cleared his throat and continued forward. 

Maxwell spent the better part of the morning wrapping Wilson’s wounds once Webber had curled up at the edge of their makeshift tent to sleep. He was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to find himself deep in slumber as well, but he found his anxiety from the morning hadn’t yet subsided. Every wound he wrapped felt like a sharp piercing into his heart, a reminder of what Wilson was capable of withstanding - but the wound on his own arm reminded him of what Wilson was capable of inflicting. It stung, and the fang marks were significantly deep, warranting extra salves and silk wrappings that Webber had gone out to the spider nests to provide him with. 

But, more importantly and even strangely, he found himself hesitating to understand the whole event. 

This wasn’t the first time he and Wilson had fought in some way, but it was the first time he genuinely hesitated to be near the other due to pure confusion. His hands had hovered over the other before he finally, after what felt like an eternity, began to dress his wounds. Maxwell had fought so much in his years here - from his first day as a young, stupidly naive magician to his reign as king, to even now when he and Wilson had been freed from the throne’s clutches - he’d fought. But it felt different with Wilson - a betrayal of sorts, despite the other’s unconsciousness during the entire thing. He could feel the shear panic at the almost-loss of their adopted son, to the fear that rested deep in his gut when Wilson ripped apart the very spiders that had resembled Webber in their own way. But, more importantly, Maxwell felt the discomfort of what Wilson’s shear strength throughout the ordeal made him feel. It wasn’t his first time in this situation, but the mixture of fear and interest left him confused and...worried. The shared joke of their “Mommy and Father” long played, and even in the most dangerous of situations, Maxwell had found himself referring to them as such. Like a family. 

A family he’d never been able to or thought he could ever have. 

When he’d finally finished caring for all the wounds inflicted on both Wilson and himself, he curled into bed. But his skin burned as he purposefully scooted away from Wilson, telling himself it was to avoid hurting the other further with his very-fresh wounds. It wasn’t because he wanted to believe in this family-esque life despite their circumstances - despite not being knowledgeable of the other’s interests. It definitely wasn’t from the strange interest that Maxwell had felt in the beginning - the hunt of Wilson prowling around him - for him. 

And he really tried to make himself believe it. 

Unfortunately, that excuse wore thin after Wilson had woken. It wore even thinner when several days had passed, with him purposefully putting unspoken space between them. Wilson, the gentle and kind being he was, looked truly heartbroken at the combination of the story being retold to him by Webber and the odd distance that suddenly wedged itself between the two friends. 

“Oh, stars, Webber - I’m...I’m so sorry.” Wilson had looked pale as Webber held his hands out for him. Wilson hesitated before picking him up into his arms, hugging him to his chest. “I - I don’t know what I would do if I ever hurt you.” 

Webber watched sadly as Wilson started crying then, his fears overwhelming at the possibilities that could have happened despite his inability to find control. The scientist hoisted Webber up further to bury his face in the soft, furry chest of his adopted son. 

“Webber, I am so, so sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Father. We forgive you.” Webber brought up his tiny paws to play with Wilson’s hair. “Just please don’t be a mean doggy anymore.” 

Maxwell had watched from afar. He watched Webber hug Wilson tightly, as the scientist fell to his knees and continued to hold Webber like he’d lost him. It was a desperate hug, one that left Maxwell’s heart aching. 

Perhaps it was guilt, but Maxwell felt terrible - he knew the other had no conscious understanding of why Maxwell was suddenly so aloof, so effectively blaming his uncontrollable curse before thinking it could be anything else (and how convenient that curse was, Maxwell thought) and the space that grew each day between them left his heart heavy. It was clear it affected Wilson each night, even after the other had apologized profusely. Maxwell had told him it was okay, but the air between them remained tight. Things weren’t okay, but Maxwell hoped the air would clear with time. 

Maxwell knew it was odd, the way his forbidden feelings had haunted him in this way - but he tried desperately to separate the fear of Wilson’s transformation and his odd and likely unrequited feelings for the other. Unfortunately, they both weighed on him evenly, leaving him bitter and fearful of the other’s thoughts. He waited and waited for his feelings to just finally subside, much like the other crushes he’d harbored throughout his life, and then Wilson would be okay. Things would be normal again. 

Until Wilson didn’t return one night. 

That night had come and gone, and Wilson still hadn’t returned. Maxwell had looked around the campsite, his frown deepening with his lack of sleep at Wilson’s strange absence. Even Webber seemed to sniff around, hissing in quiet worry as he shook his head back at Maxwell.

“He never came home last night? That doesn’t make any sense - it wasn’t a full moon.” 

“But we can’t smell him anywhere, Mommy.” Webber’s eye’s blinked. “And our friends haven’t seen him.” 

“None of them?” Maxwell felt panic bubble in his chest. “Not in any of the nests?”

“We asked all of them.” Webber walked up to him, gently grasping his pant leg. “Is Father okay?”

Maxwell had remembered a soft, attempted touch of finger tips against his own the day before - an attempt at closing the gap. Maxwell had been in a terrible mood because of their need to stock on food again and - he’d mistakenly snapped at the other. Wilson had retracted his hand and apologized swiftly before...well, before he’d made an excuse to leave and get more food for them. 

Maxwell’s mouth twisted into a frown as he patted Webber’s head.

“I’m going to go look for him.” He watched Webber look up at him curiously. “You need to stay here for when the others return. They shouldn’t be long now.” 

Webber watched him shoulder a backpack before he set out into the forest where he’d seen Wilson disappear into the day before. He couldn’t imagine Wilson had wandered too far, and his wolf form wouldn’t have taken over with the full moon not being for another month in the Constant. He could imagine, knowing Wilson’s tenderness and self-consciousness, that the younger man had gone to make his own camp away from them. The scientist would do anything to prevent something like this happening again, even if it meant saying goodbye. 

Maxwell pulled out his codex, watching two shadows form in his likeness before him. 

“Find him.” Maxwell stated evenly, watching them both nod at him before running off in different directions. 

He went for a third route, tucking the codex back into his backpack as he thought back to the last few days with weary sadness. 

Wilson had woken up slowly, painfully, and had immediately reached for him. Small, scarred fingers had reached for him, and he’d felt that warming feeling in his gut - and then the hesitation. He had eventually obliged, however, closing the gap between them to allow Wilson to curl against him like they’d usually done in the early morning when it was just them - a secret neither spoke of. When judgements and fears were held at bay and it was just them. Wilson was warm, caring - much like Charlie had been far long ago. Wilson was also different, though, with an almost childish glint in his eye where Charlie would always hold such elegance. Wilson was messy and motivated, determined to work through any and everything just because he could. Charlie has succumbed to her own darkness early on, much like Maxwell almost did, but Wilson - he was untouched. He always got back up - each revival, each injury, each insanity-ridden monster - all overcome. 

But, much like Charlie, Wilson had become a monster - another victim of the Constant. And, once more, Maxwell felt solely responsible for another beloved crush being torn down by his foolish decisions. He’d let his fears weigh on him so easily - of the fear of what the others what think of his feelings - of what Wilson would think. Perhaps the scientist would think of him as a freak, having thought all these moments meant anything more than just friendly and comforting touches. Maxwell had mistakenly let those fears win once again. And now - now he risked losing another possible love. Another soulmate, another possible love of his life, gone because he was selfish - a coward. He’d thought, after nearly a century of added existence, that he’d finally overcome his old ways - finally overcome those hushed whispers in his mind that told him he’d put the other man in danger from those forbidden feelings. He’d thought he could finally confess and find the love he’d so desperately sought after his entire life - but, to his horrific dismay, Wilson was now out in the wilderness by himself because Maxwell couldn’t overcome the unexplainable guilt - that societal weight of his sins on his own shoulders. But the only thing Wilson had to fear, from what Maxwell could tell, was the form that he’d obtained from protecting his loved ones. 

Perhaps Webber wouldn’t remember, but Willow and Maxwell would never forget. Wes would remember wrapping the wounds on Wilson’s body and Wolfgang would remember taking down the beast who had inflicted the curse onto Wilson. And Wilson, the sweet man he was, would simply state it was for love - the love of their silly adopted son and for his friends. 

Maxwell brought a hand up to clutch his chest, cursing himself once more. Had he really been that terrified of a simple hound? Had he been that terrified of touching a man who’d held his very heart despite the fact that they were two men? Maxwell felt that weight bury him - he hadn’t feared Wilson’s wolf form - he’d feared Wilson’s representation himself. 

Why did he constantly allow his cowardice to drive away the only man he’d ever fallen in love with - the only other love he’d allowed into his heart? He grit his teeth. No, he wouldn’t lose this one. He wouldn’t make the same mistake with Wilson that he made with Charlie. 

He wouldn’t lose Wilson - not if he had any say on the matter. 

It was almost nighttime and Maxwell still had no sight on the beloved scientist. His shadows hadn’t returned either, meaning they were still searching. Wilson had clearly gone far, so far out of the way to avoid ever finding his way home. Maxwell clenched his teeth in silent frustration. 

“Damnit, Higgsbury.” 

When the night had officially fallen, he set up a small, makeshift camp. It was a small campfire and a loosely strewn together straw bed, but it was something. Unfortunately, Maxwell couldn’t sleep. 

His body had adapted to Wilson’s presence, and the lack thereof had made it impossible to sleep. 

“You’d better watch that fire, Maxy.” Maxwell turned to see Charlie emerge from the shadows, her smile twisted and unsettling. “Wouldn’t want to be in the dark for too long now, would we?”

“Charlie.” Maxwell breathed, watching her smirk at him from over the fire. 

“Now, what are you doing out here all by yourself?” Charlie hummed. “Lost your way home?”

“That would be a far better situation to be in.” Maxwell watched Charlie carefully. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, nothing,” Charlie flicked her wrist as shadows erupted around her, morphing to provide a seat for her, “I just happened to have had a little chat with that little scientist friend of yours.”

“Wilson?” Maxwell looked at her before buckling down on his emotions. “Why would he talk to you of all people?” 

“You know, I did wonder the same thing. After all, he is absolutely enamored with you.” Charlie hummed. “But he seemed awfully miserable this time - and even to a point that he willingly asked to take my place on the throne once more.”

“What?” Maxwell found himself shouting before he could stop himself. “Charlie, I know we’ve had our differences, but this is too far.” 

“I wish I was kidding, Maxy. It was concerning, even for me.” Charlie genuinely looked concerned for a moment before she sighed, crossing one leg over the other. “After all, he could barely handle the throne for the short period of time he was on it. To willingly return - I just had to ask why.”

Charlie looked at Maxwell with disdain then. 

“What I learned, unsurprisingly, was that you were acting cowardly, again.” Maxwell frowned in response, turning away from Charlie’s glare. “Really, I thought you’d finally overcome this part of yourself that you feared so much.”

“It’s much easier said than done.”

“Is it?” Charlie looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Or are you going to continue hiding behind your fears to avoid the happiness you’ve wished for your whole life?” 

Maxwell clenched his jaw. 

“You may have lost me, Maxy, but you don’t have to lose him. If you don’t act soon and face your demons, however, you will lose him forever.” 

Maxwell stood.

“Do not hurt him, Charlie. I swear to the stars, I will never forgive you if you hurt him.”

“Then do something. Realize that this world isn’t the cities we toured anymore - this is the wilderness. No one will denounce your feelings here.” 

“You don’t know that.” Maxwell felt himself stammer. “And Higgsbury is - he could easily -“

“I believe you’ve pegged that boy all wrong.” Charlie sighed. “You always have.” 

“I - what?” 

“Do not hurt that man any further by denying your feelings, William. I could forgive you for our own falling out, but I will not forgive you if you continue to ruin him.” Charlie stood then, dusting off her clothes. “I expect you to find him before he gets to me. After all, I can only hold a determined man like him off for so long.” 

“Charlie,” Maxwell fidgeted for a moment, “thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me. Just fix what you’ve broken before it’s too late.” And with that, Charlie was gone in a whisk of a shadowy embrace, leaving Maxwell in the forest by himself once more.

Maxwell felt determination wash over him then as he put together a torch, grabbed his things and made his way into the darkness. He stormed forward, not slowing down at all as he squinted through the darkness. Things would be easier this way - he would be able to see the light of Wilson’s fire now, even if faint. 

And that is exactly what happened. His shadows had finally returned, gesturing to a direction that he quickly made his way down. In the distance, to Maxwell’s relief, he could see the flickering of flames. And, beside them, his beloved scientist seated before it. Maxwell was careful, stepping over branches and leaves as he watched Wilson throw another log into the flames. The closer he came, the louder the crackling was in his ears, until he was standing right behind Wilson in the small, makeshift camp the other had set up. He cleared his throat, watching Wilson jump and nearly fall into the flames. Wilson then turned around with wide eyes before a frown stretched across his face in recognition. 

“Maxwell?”

“Higgsbury,” Maxwell started with his own frown, “I know you have your dull moments, but this is low even for you.” 

Wilson’s eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance then before he turned back to the flames. 

“I’d like it if you didn’t speak to me that way.” Wilson growled lowly. “And I’ll have you know, I’m just resting. The rabbits don’t return until sunrise.”

“It’s been two days, Wilson.”

“Hunting takes time.”

Maxwell grit his teeth before walking forward, seating himself a good space away. Wilson didn’t miss it, Maxwell could tell. 

“I talked to Charlie.” Wilson grimaced in reluctant response. “I know what you’re trying to do and I don’t approve of it at all.”

“Well, I don’t need your approval now, do I?” Wilson huffed. 

“You’re willing to abandon Webber? Willow? Wendy? Wes and Wolfgang?” Maxwell’s eyes were hard as Wilson cringed at each name. “Me?”

“I wouldn’t be abandoning anyone. It would be a proper restraint system for...for...” Wilson’s voice went small. “For myself.” 

“You don’t need to do that, Higgsbury.” Maxwell risked a small scoot closer, watching Wilson’s eyes stare at the distance carefully. “We can find another way.” 

“That’s easy for you to say. I know how you feel toward me now.” Wilson turned his attention to the fire. “Don’t think me so daft, Maxwell. I may have trouble with social cues at times, but it’s very hard to miss suspicious glances and sudden distance.” 

“I will continue to think you daft if you think going to the throne is your best option of handling your curse.”

“It would prevent me from harming anyone else again.” Wilson glared at Maxwell. “And why does it matter to you, anyway? It’s clear your feelings of friendship for me has wavered since that night.” 

“You’re not wrong.” Maxwell watched Wilson cringe softly. “But it’s not that I care for you any less - quite the opposite, actually.” 

“What?” Wilson’s eyebrows furrowed as Maxwell broke their eye contact briefly. “Maxwell, what are you saying?” 

Maxwell hesitated before he risked everything. The images of everything that could go wrong plagued his thoughts, but he metaphorically stormed forward - determined. 

“I feel for you in the same way a greater man feels for a fair lady.” Wilson stared at him in confusion before realization sparked in his eyes. His mouth fell open before Maxwell held his hand out before them, effectively ceasing Wilson from speaking.

“I am aware this is unusual and I do not blame you if your feelings are not mutual.” Maxwell sighed as he dropped his eyes to the ground. “However, I do ask that you return to camp, because Webber is already distraught enough at your absence, as will everyone else when they return, and your beastly form will not be a valid enough excuse for them.” 

Wilson’s mouth was shut as he watched Maxwell clear his throat. 

“We can wait until sunrise, however. It would be foolish returning now.” He shifted his backpack to the ground and moved to stretch his legs out. 

“Maxwell.” 

“Another thing, before you continue,” He shifted, “Don’t make such foolish decisions without speaking with anyone. It took me what felt an eternity to find you, and to find out you were doing something so beyond your intelligence left me dumbfounded. At least tell someone before you go venturing off on your own.” 

Wilson remained quiet then before Maxwell rustled around his backpack and pulled out a rolled up straw bed. He’d luckily packed two, just in case. He tossed one to Wilson, who caught it curiously before he pulled out his own and unfurled it next to the campfire. 

“Get some rest. Charlie will leave us be for the night.” Maxwell tucked himself in. “Good night, Higgsbury.” 

“Maxwell?” 

“We have a long trek tomorrow.” And with that, Maxwell pulled the straw over his shoulders and curled in, his mind focusing on anything but the lack of answer from the other. He tried not to think about the humiliation that seeped into his bones, nor the heartbreak that threatened to weigh on his frail chest, so he stared into the dark forest instead. To feel so foolish - like a schoolboy once again, it left him frustrated with himself. 

What he didn’t expect, however, was the sound of someone approaching before he could hear Wilson sit beside him. He didn’t dare move as Wilson’s hand gently relaxed against his back. 

“I do believe I am as peculiar a man as you.” Wilson whispered between them. “Perhaps it’s unusual, but I’d much rather be unusual with you than without, if you’d agree.” 

Maxwell could feel his face heat as he let each breath cause his chest to rise and fall slowly. 

“I had feared the worst - that you may find me revolting if I admitted how I felt. I was not so secluded in our old world that I wasn’t aware of how society viewed men such as myself, and perhaps that is why I had sworn my life to science and science only.” Maxwell shifted to turn around, facing Wilson. The other looked at him with that same kind, reassuring smile that easily melted Maxwell’s insides. “But then, even despite the broken promise between us, I still felt a strange liking to you that I had not yet felt in this life. Then, I knew that no matter the consequence, I would always see you fondly.” 

Maxwell opened his mouth before closing it again - he’d rarely felt a loss for words, but somehow, yet not entirely unsurprisingly, this moment had caught him speechless. 

“Perhaps our circumstances are not so unfortunate in this world because, if of course you are not playing a cruel game with me, we found each other despite it all.” Wilson hummed. “But I’d find myself the happiest man in the world if you really were charmed by someone like me.” 

Maxwell smiled as he watched Wilson hesitantly, yet softly, grab his hand and hold it between them. 

“I think I’d be the far luckier one, Higgsbury.”

The air felt light between them, a sensation that had only been hinted at in the smaller moments between them in earlier days. The glances between them when they were alone by the campfire, the way they would linger closer together in the tent without a word, the closeness they held in the early mornings or the strange brush of fingers between them when they walked - it all felt right for Maxwell in that moment and he could finally breathe a sigh of relief. 

Maxwell felt himself relax when Wilson’s fingers intertwined with his. It felt so strangely intimate, an overwhelming feeling that left him light despite the heavy weight of their actions in his mind. This gesture alone would be so much in another world, and Wilson seemed to understand just how dangerous it would be - but it was just them. 

It was just them. Maxwell squeezes the other’s hand before carefully pushing himself up. Wilson watched him sit up before leaning slowly forward. 

“Wilson, may I ask for something of a favor?”

“I don’t see why not.” Wilson grinned expectedly. 

Perhaps it was too fast, perhaps it was too ambitious and silly, but Maxwell leaned forward slowly anyway. Wilson squeaked when lips met his, but the other didn't push Maxwell off. Instead, the kiss was short lived when Maxwell’s heart felt like bursting, leaving them to part. Wilson’s fingers were on his lips, the look of awe leaving Maxwell with a soft chuckle. He rather liked the overwhelming blush on the other’s face - and felt a sort of pride knowing he was the one who caused it. 

“Thank you, Maxwell.” Wilson finally muttered quietly, leaving the older man humming. Maxwell just smiled in response. Wilson unfurled the straw bed next to his, and they found themselves curling into each other like their usual mornings, but perhaps a little more bold in their newfound happiness - and their privacy. 

The next morning, they started the trek back home. Backpacks packed and fire put out, they started south once more. Maxwell’s heart jumped when fingers gently brushed against his own. He held his hand fully then, watching Wilson’s face brighten before fingers intertwined with his as they walked. 

Maxwell reveled in the feeling, but still found a small amusement in their height difference as Wilson had to adjust his walking speed to match Maxwell’s now-adjusted speed to match his shorter companion. He tried not to think about how the others would see them now, if their looks would be in disdain or approval. Wilson’s thoughts remained carefree, however, as he hummed happily between them. 

“You know,” Wilson started, “I had some ideas of restraints for the curse.”

“Oh?” Maxwell smirked, knowing the other was reeling to go into another one of his elongated scientific explanations and plans. It served as a welcome distraction the closer they came to camp, with Wilson explaining all of the restraining systems he could test on the Pig Men. 

“Father!” 

Maxwell turned his head to see Webber running toward them. He expected Wilson to drop their hands, his own body preparing to put a decent space between them, but Wilson held his hand tighter and held his other hand out for the small boy. Webber crashed into Wilson, his small arms wrapping around Wilson’s neck as the other pulled him up one-handed. 

“We missed you!” Webber rested his head against Wilson’s shoulder, curling into Wilson’s chest as the scientist held the small boy. 

Maxwell could see the others stirring in the camp then, silently awaiting Wilson to break their hand contact. The scientist never did, tightening his grip and looking at Maxwell with a smile that promised strength. 

“Thank you, Wilson.” Maxwell whispered softly. 

The gentleman scientist just grinned happily back and Maxwell’s heart had never beat so fast and warmly in his entire life.

**Author's Note:**

> This one took me a hot minute to write, but it was fun! Hope y’all enjoyed it!


End file.
